“Don’t you have work to do?” I growl.
“Heading to the hospital to check in with Greyson as soon as you get your ass in that house.” Roman chuckles.
Aunt Vivi always made me feel like one of her boys, but at this particular moment, I’d be okay being an only child.
“Knew he was a chickenshit.” Chief isn’t even trying to whisper now. “You owe me twenty bucks.”
“You bet against me?” I hiss.
Chief shrugs, so I knock out of spite and instantly regret being baited.
After a long three minutes, Clover’s wide eyes greet me, and my chest does a weird aching thing while my tongue forgets what it’s supposed to do.
“Hi,” she says softly, sweetly, gently. So careful in everything she does. What’s she like when she…lets go?
“Hi.” I gesture toward Wrecks, who’s currently gnawing on her porch railing, so I tug him back to me by his leash. “Chief said you’re the proud new owner of this beast.”
“Apparently.” She glances down at Wrecks, and the worry and fear that were hiding in her expression melt away, right before he lunges at her.
“For fuck’s sake,” I growl, widening my stance and holding him back.
Her laughter catches me off guard, and my grip slips. Wrecks tears ass and sticks his nose right into the center of her belly. “It’s okay,” she giggles. “He won’t hurt me. Come on in.” She frowns over my shoulder, then waves. “Why are Chief and Roman hiding behind my hydrangeas?”
“Spying,” I grumble.
As soon as we cross the threshold, Wrecks makes himself at home by sprawling across her family room floor.
“Spying?” She giggles again, but it’s so soft I nearly miss it because I’m scowling at the wild beast who’s already snoring. “He’s…large.”
“He needs training,” I mutter.
A dimple appears on her cheek, and an offer to train the mutt is on the tip of my tongue, but her smile deepens, showing another dimple, and all my rational thoughts evaporate into thin air.
“Would you like some coffee? Or tea? Be careful what you choose in public though—you’ll make friends and enemies on both sides of our coffee versus tea debate.”
“That’s…”
“Endearing?” she says as I grumble, “Strange.”
“Sure.” My shoulder muscles relax. “We’ll go with endearing. I’ll take a coffee if you have some made. Thanks.”
I scan her walls, the end tables, the windows, the snow globes that still flutter glitter around them—they must be battery-operated. I’m not the least bit uncomfortable in her space. It’s…not normal.
I don’t relax. Not in new places. Not even at home, if I’m being completely honest.
Straightening my spine, I follow her into the kitchen, where she pours two mugs with hands that are only slightly shaking. It’s better than she was earlier. It’s progress.
“Madi and Elle left about an hour ago,” she says, handing me a mug. “Madi went to the hospital, and Elle had to get back to her daughter.” She taps her chin, a small line forming between her brows. It’s the only imperfection I can find. “They made me promise to text them every hour.”
Because of her stalker? Or because I’m camped outside?
“It’s good to have people checking on you,” I say instead.
“It’s excessive.”
“It’s what people do when they care.”
She studies me over the rim of her mug. I must have said the right thing because she’s smiling again—the first rays of sun after a long, cold winter.
